A Pleasantly Spent Day
by Angleterre97
Summary: Happy Birthday Arthur! Not even sure if it's his B'day, but I felt like it hehe


Arthur looked at the clock, he had slept in. Not that it mattered anyways, he had taken the day off of work. But still, he had slept in. He hadn't planned too. Long before now the sun should have been streaming through his window right onto his face like every morning before. But his curtains were drawn.

'Did I close those last night?' He thought to himself as he crawled off of his mattress. Plodding his way down the hall he entered the bathroom and turned on the tap. When he emerged, clean, dressed and refreshed he couldn't help but notice the sounds and smells of food cooking from the first floor of his home. Had this sort of thing never happened before he would have been scared out of his wits. But this sort of thing happened all the time, so he wasn't.

"Ah, _bonjour mon cheri._ Sleep in did we?"

"Sod off, it's your damn fault if I did."

"Not _Moi!"_ Came a reply with a smile.

"...Arse."

It was what they would consider a pleasant morning conversation. Before long an elegantly dressed plate of Crepes was placed before the Brit along with a cup of his favorite tea, fixed to perfection of course.

"Are you trying to score points with me or something?" Arthur asked bitterly as he took a bite of the fruit filled masterpiece.

"What kind of man do you take me for?" Francis responded. "Hypothetically though if I were...?"

"Stupid frog."

But the Frenchman smirked as he saw the small ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of the other's lips.

"It's a lovely day." The long-haired blonde said as he cleared the dishes and began to run water to wash them. Arthur didn't respond as he picked up the paper he did not recall walking outside to retrieve.

Undeterred Francis continued.

"I header of a new cafe that opened downtown, near that record store you like so much."

Now he had at least part of the grumpy man's attention as his eyes glared over the top of the Daily News Tribune.

"What of it?"

"Your favorite book store is in that neighborhood too if I remember correctly."

And when Arthur gave a quiet sigh and placed down the paper, he knew he had won, not that Francis had paid any mind to the notion that he wouldn't in the end.

/OOO/

The Frenchman was right, it was a very lovely day. The sun was out and it was warm. Not hot, but pleasantly warm. So pleasant in fact, that he had convinced Arthur that walking the five blocks to the downtown district from his quaint, suburban historical district wouldn't be that bad at all. And as they walked along the side walk underneath the trees budding with the essence of spring it was...nice.

"Tell me again how you acquired a key to my home."

"What does it matter _mon cher?"_

"I want it back."

"That's fine."

"...You've made duplicates, haven't you?"

"Tch, you accuse me of such things."

"Hmph."

The new cafe was also rather lovely. Large windows that let in the sunlight, comfortable seats and delicious food. The waitress was quite charming as she took their order and Arthur couldn't help but let another very small smile grace his lips.

"You ought to do that more often." Francis pointed out, teasing yet genuine. Arthur scoffed.

"You hardly give me a reason too."

"Wounding." The Frenchman said, feigning hurt.

Arthur smirked. "Good."

The next few hours were spent in leisure as the two men explored the downtown shops. Francis insisted upon purchasing the man a couple of Jazz records (And maybe also an Iron Maiden one).

"I'm not poor you damn frog, I can buy my own things!"

"_Oui,_ but you are such a scrooge you wouldn't buy those for yourself anyways."

Arthur only glared and mumbled something about 'Hmph scrooge, whatever.' Before entering the bookstore and again not being able to thwart the taller man and begrudgingly allowed him to buy him a new stack of books.

"If you so insist." The Brit said as he handed him the heavy bag. "Then you can carry them too."

"As you wish~"

/OOO/

"Have I ever told you," Arthur began as they sat on his couch, listening to one of his new Jazz records and sipping on wine that he never recalled buying. "That I don't appreciate it when people come over unannounced and throw off my whole day."

"Have I ever told _you_," Francis replied, taking his first chance of the entire day and lacing his fingers with those of his companions. "That I know you far to well, and that had I not appeared to brighten your day you would have probably spent it curled up with a book-"

"What's so wrong with that?!" Arthur interjected.

"Or tucked away in your office, buried by piles of papers."

That the Brit, unfortunately, couldn't deny. Work was work.

"So what, do you think you deserve praise or something?"

"_Non_, this is just fine actually." And he leaned over and kissed the man. Not desperately, rushed or aggressively, but pleasantly, sweet and lovingly.

"Happy birthday, _mon amour~_"

Arthur smiled at this, finally, and blushed too of course. It was not a small smirk or a smile suppressed by embarrassment, but a real one. The one Francis had been looking for all day.

"Ah! There it is!" He teased as he kissed those smiling lips again.

"Shut up you sodding Frog...and thank you."

/OOO/

**Alright so home sick, but I suppose that can't be helped. I realized this morning that I hadn't written anything for my dear Iggy's birthday so this is what came out of observing how nice it is outside. R & R plz. **


End file.
